Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3)

by Rachael Anderson

  All of their little compromises and differences suddenly felt so much bigger. Colton was like a sturdy evergreen, strong and tall, patient and unwavering and perfectly content to root deeply in the soil. Sam, on the other hand, wanted to be the wind that blew through the trees, free to soar high or skim low, free to touch, taste, and feel all she could. But she didn’t want to do it alone. She wanted Colton along for the ride.

  “Okay,” she breathed, feeling like her chest had been squeezed in a vice. “I’ll visit you then.”

  “Or,” he said, looking at her with pain-filled eyes. “You can move on with your life, and I’ll move on with mine. If you do come back in two years, we can see what happens then.”

  If she’d thought her hopes had been crushed before, now they’d been pulverized. He wasn’t even willing to try to compromise this time. From the sounds of it, he didn’t even want to stay in touch.

  A part of her heart cracked open, and unwanted tears began to grow at the corners of her eyes. Maddening, frustrating tears. Go away! she wanted to shout. I’m stronger than this. I can take it. I CAN. But instead of drying up, more and more tears came. So many that they leaked from her eyes and traveled down her cheeks.

  Angrily, she swiped them away and glared at the person who’d caused them. “Sometimes, I really hate that you can be such a stick-in-the-mud.”

  Then she pushed past him and ran out the door, back to her car. A quick U-turn later, and she sped down the lane, away from Colton, away from the ranch, and away from all the people who were completely oblivious that her heart had just broken in two.

  Colton sank down on his bed and picked up the sign, running his fingers across the top with slow and deliberate movements, tracing each letter and image. Samantha was right. She was good. And if a highly-ranked company like that Brecken whatever had chosen her out of hundreds, she was even better than good.

  Before now, Colton hadn’t realized what New York truly meant. He’d thought it was a design job like any other—a job she could find in Denver or Colorado Springs at the local Kinkos or Color Me Mine. Now he understood, and the knowledge slammed into him like the ground after he’d been bucked off a horse.

  There was no keeping her here, no hoping she’d choose him instead of a job. Samantha had to leave. She’d regret it if she didn’t, and Colton—well, he’d never be able to live with himself if she stayed because of him. That scenario had disaster written all over it.

  But the scenario in which she left and Colton stayed didn’t sound much better. This was a solid case of life sucked.

  What could he do, though? Samantha had been right when she’d said his life was here. It was. Colton was tied to the ranch like a horse tethered to a post. Animals needed to be watered and fed every day. Stalls needed to be cleaned. Taxes needed to be paid. Riding lessons needed to be taught. And horses needed to be looked after and trained.

  His family had never taken a vacation together because they couldn’t. Not even for a day. They were a tight-knit group—not because they played together but because they worked together. When Colton had left with Will to round up wild mustangs for a week, his family had stepped in to pick up the slack, just like they’d pitched in to help out with some of his share of the work this summer because of Maj. And Colton did the same for them when needed.

  But those were all short-term scenarios. A week here, a week there. A few hours here, a few hours there. Handing over his share of the responsibilities for an entire two years was out of the question, which meant he had to stay.

  And Samantha had to go.

  Until this moment, Colton’s ties to the ranch had never felt confining.

  By the time Sam had pulled herself together enough to go to the barbeque it was well underway. Cassie’s entire side of the family had come, along with some of the McCoy’s friends and neighbors. People were everywhere, chatting, eating, and laughing as though life was grand. It felt like a slap in the face.

  After forcing herself to greet everyone, Sam settled down with Georgia on her lap. But her stomach began rumbling loudly, and Emma snatched Georgia back and shooed Sam toward the buffet table.

  “Eat,” she said. “You’re too thin as it is.”

  As Sam walked to the food table, her eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on a group of people clustered near the grill. Colton stood next to a beautiful girl with long brown hair and a skirt that was far too flirty and cute. Sam hated her instantly. Colton chuckled at something she said, as though all was fine and dandy with the world.

  Well, it wasn’t. Sam wanted to walk straight over to him and say, “Wipe that smile off your face right now. You’re not allowed to be happy and pretend like nothing is wrong when everything’s wrong.”

  As if sensing her presence, the cute girl glanced up and elbowed Colton, nodding in Sam’s direction. Colton followed her gaze, and for a moment their eyes met. But Sam quickly looked away and pasted a matching smile on her own face. If Colton could act unaffected, then so could she. If he could put on a happy face and find someone to flirt with—well, so could she. Only in her case, she’d find a handsome guy who liked to sing karaoke and hop through fountains and travel the world.

  Her gaze landed on a man sitting across from Adi and Kajsa and laughing at something Adi had said.

  Sam walked to the buffet table, grabbed a roll, a spoonful of fruit salad, and some chips and took a seat next to the good-looking cowboy.

  “Hey, Adi and Kajsa.”

  “You’re late,” said Kajsa.

  “Guilty.”

  The rebound cowboy glanced her way for a moment. “Well, ladies,” he said, speaking to Adi and Kajsa. “Are you going to introduce me or not?”

  Sam didn’t bother waiting. She held out her hand. “I’m Sam Kinsey, their almost-sister. And you are?”

  He tipped the brim of his black cowboy hat. “Will. Will Jeppson. My family’s ranch is on the other side of that mountain.”

  Sam lifted a chip to her mouth and tapped the edge against her lower lip. “Tell me something, Will. How do you feel about flying?”

  And so it went the rest of the night. Sam flirted with Will briefly (until he asked her if she was Colton’s “Sam”), and then she moved on to someone else. Meanwhile, the annoyingly cute brunette continued to hang around Colton, batting her too-long-to-be real lashes at him and touching him every chance she got. Eventually, Sam got fed up with all the pretending and wandered back to the buffet, trying hard to keep her mood elevated, her smile intact, and her threatening tears at bay.

  Tonight was a night she’d looked forward to all summer. Kajsa would be riding Whisper in a barrel race, Dusty would be riding a bronc, and Spence was all dressed up in baggy jeans, suspenders, and a zany shirt with colorful, neon stripes going every which way. Sam wanted to get caught up in it all, push the annoying cute-girl aside, and take her rightful spot next to Colton.

  If only a thunderstorm would roll in, let loose a deluge, and put an end to this miserable night.

  “Hey, you.” Her mother appeared at her side and picked up a baby carrot. “I noticed you came a little late to the party. You’re never late to parties.”

  “Something came up.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You just said it was something.”

  “It was something. Now it’s nothing.” Sam shoved another chip in her mouth, knowing that if her mother continued she’d likely burst into tears again.

  Her mother bit off some of the carrot and chewed slowly. Even though Sam refused to look up, she could feel her mother’s perceptive gaze watching her, seeing far more than Sam wanted her to see.

  Finally, her mother’s arm came around her, and she placed a soft kiss on Sam’s temple. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “In the meantime,” said her mother with a bright, spunky tone, “exciting news about Kajsa, huh?” Sam’s expression must have shown her confusion, because her mother continued, “Apparently Colton has ma
de her head trainer of Maj.”

  “What?” Sam’s head snapped up. “When did that happen?”

  “Sometime this morning, I think. You know Kajsa. When she’s really excited, not much of what she says makes sense.”

  Sam nodded, thinking of the occasions she’d had to plant both palms on Kajsa’s shoulders, give them a slight shake and say, “Kajsa, take five deep breaths then tell me what’s gotten you all discombobbled.”

  “I had no idea,” said Sam, not liking the fact that she’d gone from being in the loop to out of it in a matter of hours. Stupid New York job. Stupid stick-in-the-mud Colton. And stupid bright blue skies with not a cloud in sight. Where was that deluge when she needed it?

  Colton’s voice sounded over the loudspeakers. “Who’s ready to get this party started?” His tone had taken on a southern, twangy quality that Sam had always found adorable. Now it grated.

  Cheers sounded from all around—from everyone but Sam. If he would have said, “Who’s ready to call it quits and go home?” she would have hollered her head off.

  The rodeo began. Five men rode broncs, three women competed in the barrel races (Kajsa performed perfectly this time), four men did some sheep roping, and nineteen kids lined up to climb on the back of a sheep and hang on for dear life. Over and over again. They’d fall off the sheep and jump right back in line to do it again. Between every ride and event, Spence would jog out center field and act like an idiot.

  Gradually, Sam felt her sour mood begin to sweeten. She laughed when Dusty got bucked right off, cheered loudly for Kajsa, chuckled at all the failed attempts at roping a sheep, and giggled as child after child bounced along on the back of a sheep then toppled to the ground. So adorable.

  By the time the rodeo ended, she’d almost forgotten that she and Colton were on the outs. Almost. With his voice blaring in her ears the entire night, giving humorous remarks about each and every ride, she couldn’t forget completely.

  “Before everyone finishes off the last of my mother’s amazing mint brownies,” Colton’s voice came again, “I have a demonstration I’d like ya’ll to see. A finale. Kajsa, would you come up here for a second?”

  Her face flushed with embarrassment and pleasure, Kajsa made her way to the front of the crowd. Colton draped an arm around her shoulders. “This morning I was able to witness a sight that blew my socks off, and it’s something I’d like to share with the rest of you.

  “As many of you know, I’ve been training a horse for the Wild Mustang Makeover contest in Fort Worth, Texas, this September. At the beginning of June, I showed up with a horse as wild as they come, wondering what in the heck I’d gotten myself into.”

  Laughter and murmuring followed, and Colton waited for it to die down before continuing. “Not only did Kajsa give the horse its name of Your Majesty, but she understood the wild mustang’s personality and needs in a way that an average dope like me couldn’t. About two months ago, Maj rode up to this ranch kicking and screaming, determined not to let anyone near her, and now—well, watch and see.”

  He nodded at Kajsa, and Sam squeezed through the crowd of people wanting a clear view. As she neared the front, she looked up to find Colton’s eyes on her. The intensity in them stole her breath away and caused her heart to burn and ache and hope, all at the same time. Him going his way and her going hers was not okay and never would be okay. They had to get through this.

  A loud whistle pierced the air, and Sam followed the sound to where Kajsa stood in the open field with her fingers in her mouth. In the other hand, she held a carrot. Seconds later, Maj burst through a grove of trees, running toward Kajsa and stopping directly in front of her. Kajsa fed the mustang the carrot, spoke a few words in her ear, then picked up an empty bucket and flipped it over beside Maj. The horse stood amazingly still as Kajsa hopped on the bucket, grabbed a fist of her mane, and swung up on the horse’s back. Using only her voice and a hand on Maj’s neck, Kajsa guided the mustang through a small obstacle course, walking across a bridge, around a barrel, and over a pile of logs. Then she loped the perimeter of the larger corral before bringing Maj to a stop near the fence. Ever so slowly, she raised her body into a crouch. Then, with her arms outstretched, she stood.

  Tears stung Sam’s eyes as she watched. Hours spent making mud pies, watching horse movies, reading horse books, shopping for cowgirl hats and boots had all culminated into this one perfect moment, when an adorable little tomboy became a beautiful young woman. Her sister.

  Kajsa crouched back down and slid off the horse. Whistles and whoops and hollers sounded in the darkening sky, but Kajsa seemed oblivious to it all. She was too busy hugging Maj.

  More than anything, Sam wanted to talk to Colton, but he was already surrounded by a group of people—the annoying-cute girl being one of them. She took a step back to make room for the others.

  A balding man Sam thought was Colton’s uncle raised his voice. “Colt, do you think you have a shot at actually winning the competition?”

  “I don’t know,” said Colton in his humble way. “Kajsa and I have watched a few documentaries about other trainers and horses, and what some of those trainers can do with those animals is incredible. Standing on the back of the horse might be small change in comparison.”

  “Well, here’s hoping you at least place. I’d hate to see you come home with nothing after all your hard work.”

  “What do you mean nothin’?’” boomed Colton’s father. “Not only will Maj be placed in a good home, but Kajsa has proven that she’s got some serious talent. I wouldn’t call that nothin’.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t saying—”

  “What do you mean Maj will be placed in a good home?” interrupted Kajsa’s youthful, but strong voice. She’d climbed the fence next to Colton and perched her small body on top.

  “The person who bids the highest on Maj will take her home,” said Colton. He craned his head to look at her. “But you already know that, right?” The question didn’t sound so sure—more like a plea. Please tell me you already know that, thought Sam.

  “You’re going to sell Your Majesty?”

  Oh no. She had no idea. Sam’s heart sank to her toes.

  The crowd around Colton began to disperse, as though people realized an uncomfortable conversation was about to take place. But Sam stayed put, inwardly pleading with Colton to say or do something to keep Kajsa’s heart and spirit from breaking.

  Colton stepped on the bottom rail of fence, eye level with Kajsa, and placed his hand on her knee. “I can’t sell a horse I don’t own, Kaj. The government owns her. I just agreed to train her with the hope that she’ll get placed in a good home.”

  In all the years she’d known Kajsa, Sam could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen her cry. It didn’t happen often because she was tough—tougher than any other girl her age. But there, on that fence, surrounded by all these people, Kajsa’s beautiful blue eyes glistened with tears.

  “Can we buy her?” she whispered, a final hope hanging in the air like a thin, breakable thread. Don’t break it. Please, don’t break it, her eyes pled.

  Colton pulled her off the fence and into his arms, hugging her tight. “I wish we could, Kaj. I really do. But if Maj performs well, people are going to bid thousands of dollars for her, and we can’t afford to compete with that.”

  Kajsa’s body began to shake with silent tears. After a moment, she wriggled her way out of Colton’s embrace, scrambled over the fence, and ran toward Maj in the field. Every instinct in Sam pushed her to follow, but Cassie and Noah had overheard as well, and they were already in pursuit.

  Colton’s stricken gaze met Sam’s. “I thought she knew. I honestly thought she knew. But how could she when I never took the time to explain it to her?” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Sam wanted to touch him, comfort him, tell him everything would be okay, but there was still too much distance between them for that. She said nothing.

  It was Colton’s father who spoke up. “Kajsa
is the toughest girl I know,” he said. “She’ll be just fine. If she’s going to be a real horse trainer some day, she needs to learn that letting horses go is part of the business.”

  It sounded so harsh and cold, but Sam knew he spoke the truth. Kajsa was learning a hard lesson in the worst way possible—through firsthand experience.

  “Sam.” Her mother was suddenly at her side, her hand on Sam’s elbow.

  “Yeah?”

  “What do you say we help clean up?”

  Sam nodded. Clean up. Of course. She met Colton’s gaze one last time before walking away. The rodeo had been the calm between storms. Why couldn’t it have lasted a little longer?

  Sam couldn’t sleep and had too much on her mind to even attempt it. So she took a seat in front of her computer, opened Photoshop, and scrolled through a folder of JPEG images until she found her favorite picture of Kajsa and Maj. Taken right after Kajsa’s first ride on Maj, Kajsa had wrapped the reins around the saddle horn and leaned low over Maj’s neck, giving the horse an exuberant hug. The look of joy and trust on Kajsa’s face was what Sam loved the most—that and the cool camera angle that had captured it all.

  Zooming in close on the saddle horn, Sam began to work the magic of Photoshop. Minutes and hours ticked by unnoticed as Sam erased, blended, cloned, painted, and blended some more, removing all signs of the saddle from the image to make it look like Kajsa was riding bareback. She added a photo effect that roughened the edges of the picture and adjusted the colors, fading some and brightening others. When Sam finally pushed her chair back to examine the results from a distance, the picture that had been snapped with a cell phone now looked like a realistic pastel drawing of Kajsa and the wild mustang she’d come to love so much.